


Lima Oscar Victor Echo

by aph_pasta



Series: Que Será, Será [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mars, War, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 01:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19263460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aph_pasta/pseuds/aph_pasta
Summary: No matter where they are in history, humans always seem to find an excuse to fight, and they also always seem to find an excuse to love.





	Lima Oscar Victor Echo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chartini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chartini/gifts).



> So this is my first time ever writing NedRo and I'm honestly so happy about how it turned out!

“Vamp zero-nine-three, do you read me? Vamp zero-nine-three!”

 

“Reading you loud and clear.”

 

“Ground is getting code yellow on your aircraft, you need to land as soon as you can find somewhere safe.”

 

“Ten-four. I’ve got my sights set on a place.”

 

“Stand by for pickup, we’re sending someone as soon as we can.”

 

“Roger that, over and out.”

 

The ship’s engines groan as Mihai turns the yoke and dips out of his squadron’s formation. His seat jolts back and forth and the cockpit rattles so violently he can hear screws being shaken loose. The ship gives one more awful groan as it approaches the ground, and Mihai yelps when an alarm starts going off, red lights flashing to signal that the fuselage has been penetrated and the ship is no longer pressurized. He takes his hands off the yoke, knowing there is nothing more he can do, and lets the plane tumble nearly three kilometers down to a large, dusty expanse of nothingness.

 

It takes a few minutes for Mihai to regain his composure. His ears are ringing and there is the sensation of stabbing pins and needles all throughout his body. He fumbles to undo the restraint system keeping him to his seat and carefully peels his flight mask away from his face. When he stands up, he feels dizzy and unsteady, but nothing feels broken, so he makes his way to the door and stumbles out of the cockpit.

 

Dazed, he looks around, staring incredulously at a mound of metal and glass beneath his ship. Dark red martian soil paints the crushed spacecraft, and in front of it stands someone in a flightsuit marked with the green and blue colors of the enemy.

 

Miahi fumbles to grab his handgun off his hip, and the person across from him quickly does the same. He glares into their cloudy helmet and fingers the trigger.

 

“You just narrowly escaped being shot out of the sky and falling to death. Now you’re going to let me shoot you? Is that really how you want to go?” The stranger asks in a deep, muffled voice. Mihai glances down at his gloved hands, then sighs and brings the gun back down to his side, keeping his finger poised on the trigger.

 

“Your people were the ones trying to shoot me out of the sky,” Mihai retorts.

 

“That wasn’t directly my fault. I’m not controlling them. In fact, I haven’t had contact with them for three days.”

 

Mihai huffs. This person has a point. He slowly takes his finger off the trigger, and puts the gun back in its holster.

 

The person across from him puts his gun away as well, then lifts up the visor of his helmet. An oxygen mask covers the bottom of his face, and he has sharp blue eyes with a deep, bloody cut just above the right one. He is still the enemy, but now he’s also a person.

 

“Mihai. From Elysium Planitia.” He steps forward and somewhat reluctantly reaches out to shake the person’s hand.

 

“That’s better. Maarten. From Amsterdam.”

 

\----

 

_ Maarten, _

 

_ I know I shouldn’t be speaking with you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Meeting you completely changed everything. I need to see you again. On Friday at 22:30 I’ll be at the site of the crash. _

 

_ -Mihai _

 

\----

 

This time, Maarten’s visor is left up and Mihai glances to the side at his expression again and again as he stares up at the two moons hanging in the sky and at the dust-covered mountain formed by the two decrepit starships.

 

“You keep licking your top lip,” he observes.

 

Maarten takes a little box out of his pocket and sifts through it to find a half-smoked joint. He takes out a match as well and strikes it against the rough junction between his gloves and his suit, then turns off his oxygen supply and takes a drag. He silently hands the joint to Mihai and they pass it back and forth, staring up at the moons and sometimes at each other.

 

“You’re really not a bad person.” Mihai smiles and tilts his head to the side. “And you don’t hate me. Your army told you to, but you didn’t listen.”

 

Maarten shrugs and drops what’s left of the joint to crush it under the toe of his boot. “How do you know I don’t hate you.”

 

“I just do. And I can read minds.” Maarten looks at him, startled, and he adds, “I’m kidding. I can’t do that… yet.”

 

Maarten glances him over. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was human, but he does know better. Mihai’s teeth are sharper, meant for the Martian diet of tough genmod meat and vegetables. His skin is pale and he’s tall and thin from the microgravity. His golden eyes sparkle in the dark and Maarten stares into them for just a few seconds more than he’d meant to.

 

“Why are you fighting?” Mihai finally asks, and he receives another shrug from Maarten.

 

“I don’t know anymore.” 

 

He knows now, though, why Mihai’s fighting. It makes sense. He wants the rights that have been stripped from him and everyone else who isn’t fully human.

 

\----

 

It’s dangerous, but Mihai takes a risk. Their camp moves after his squadron defeats the one stationed south of Hellas, and now they are strategizing, planning to take down the layers of defense around Hellas’s central laboratory and take it back for those who were created there. If they manage to do so, it would be a turning point in the war.

 

Maarten is part of the aerospace branch assigned to the laboratory. Mihai sends him another letter, begs him to meet them where they had the week before, and he shows up, coming to stand with him once more in the shadow of their starships.

 

“I need to tell you something,” he begins, and he pulls on Maarten’s hand so he’s looking at him, now. He’s bad at maintaining eye contact and Mihai can tell that he’s looking at the bridge of his nose. “We’re attacking the Hellas laboratory. I don’t know when but it’ll be soon. Please-”

 

“I’m not defecting.”

 

“Please.”

 

“No.”

 

Mihai’s lip trembles and he crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“I have a duty to my army. Even if I don’t agree with them, I can’t abandon them.”

 

“But what if you-”

 

“I will be fine. Worry about yourself. Stay safe.”

 

Maarten places his hand underneath Mihai’s jaw and tilts his head up. Tears are shining in his eyes and when they fall he brushes them away with gloved fingers.

 

Mihai lets out a shuddering breath, then leans forward and quickly kisses Maarten, letting their lips touch for barely a second. He looks shocked, and Mihai explains, “it’s for good luck. And so you know how much I care about you.”

 

\----

 

Going into battle, Mihai no longer feels a rush of excitement. His stomach hurts from something worse than nerves. He doesn’t want to shoot, doesn’t even want to touch the joysticks that control his starship’s guns. He still hates the enemy, but he doesn’t hate Maarten. He doesn’t want to hurt him.

 

He still puts on his uniform and follows the instructions the general barks into his earpiece. His and over a hundred other starships lift away from base and the fleet forms into small V-shaped patterns that zoom at hundreds of kilometers per hour to surround the basin from all sides. The laboratory sits on a lake in the middle, and the significantly smaller fleet of Earth starships quickly comes to life, swarming in the sky and attacking.

 

At first, Mihai is on autopilot. He doesn’t have time to think so his mind reverts to the basic instinct of fight or flight. A starship comes toward him, shooting at him, so he calls for backup and he and three other men gun it down. It explodes as it falls to the ground, and Mihai feels a moment of satisfaction.

 

Then, he sees another enemy ship, to his left. He turns toward it, aiming his guns, and he’s about to fire when he catches sight of the pilot. In a split second, he recognizes the spiked-up hair and the man pressing his tongue against his top lip as he shoots. 

 

Mihai accelerates, driving his ship into the line of fire. It’s just enough time for Maarten to get away, but he takes the brunt of the damage and before he can even register someone on his comm asking what the hell he thought he was doing, he’s in a tailspin, jolting violently from side to side, too dizzy to get his hands back on the yoke.

 

\----

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

 

Mihai blinks and his vision swims. His throat burns and his stomach twists violently. He coughs and sees black spots.

 

“God, Mihai, you almost died. Why did you do that? I could take care of myself.”

 

Maarten wipes at his sweaty forehead with a cool cloth and pushes back some of his hair. Mihai groans and tries to shake his head.

 

“‘m fine.”

 

“You have a pretty bad concussion and you broke your arm and a few ribs. You’re lucky, things could have been so much worse.” Maarten says, his voice firm and scolding, but unmistakably pained. Mihai is able to focus his vision enough to see his brows furrowed with worry and a small frown on his face.

 

“But you’re safe,” he murmurs and smiles as best as he can.

 

Maarten looks down at him for a moment, then leans in to kiss his cheek. “I’m safe. You need to worry about yourself now. You need to worry about getting better for me.”


End file.
